


A Black Christmas (I)

by Abradystrix



Series: Andromeda Vignettes [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:51:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8044801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abradystrix/pseuds/Abradystrix
Summary: In a fit of Christmas spirit, a 12 year old Andromeda Black attempts to bond with her youngest sister.





	A Black Christmas (I)

London, 1965

Christmas was, as ever, an austere affair. 

Dromeda stared down at the shoes on her feet - patent black, dimpled brogues that hurt her feet and just wouldn’t seem to soften. The gaudy red tights of her mother’s choosing had failed to set off the unnatural shade of green in which all three sisters were dressed. Sitting on the sofa, Dromeda watched as her oldest sister Bella’s eyes darted around the room, seeking an opportunity to impress their parents: furtively she stood up and exited the room, glaring over her shoulder as she left. Rolling her own eyes, Dromeda turned and instead stared at little Narcissa, who was sitting in the corner with a book, staring seriously into its pages and sitting stiffly, her pale blonde hair falling like a shining sheet over her right shoulder. 

‘Cissy… Cissy!’

She looked up, quickly noticing the absence of Bella and observing Dromeda with a slightly nervous look in her dark eyes.

‘What?’

Dromeda cast a glance over at the door and shifted over towards her littlest sister.

‘Budge up.’ she hissed, squeezing in beside her. Narcissa reluctantly gave way and closed her book, clearly discombobulated by this sudden intimacy. Dromeda smiled at her, inwardly craving some, any, of the closeness they had shared before Hogwarts, those peaceful days with Bella was gone, just the two of them in this rambling old house. Cissy had relaxed, been silly, lighter somehow.

‘Do you remember last Christmas when Bella demanded that we all listen to that dreadful documentary on wizarding lineage?’

Narcissa nodded and bit her lip, a flush rising in her cheeks.

‘And we charmed it, didn’t we? So that all she heard was some Muggle music? That band you like, Cissy, who was it again?’ Dromeda remembered it clearly but wanted to engage the last member of her family who she had a modicum of time for in this last-ditch attempt at camaraderie.

‘The Kinks!’ whispered Narcissa, her eyes bright and shining, with an unwitting smile on her face.

‘That was funny wasn’t it?’ Dromeda laughed, nudging her sister in the ribs.

‘Yes.’ giggled Narcissa, delighting in the memory. 

Bella’s anger had been something to behold and the apparent inability of Cygnus Black to correct the wireless had only prolonged their giggles. The mood had soured somewhat when Bella’s rage had taken its toll on their new set of Gobstones and the downtrodden housecat, Stella, who was banished from the room with a flash of red and a shriek of displeasure. Their mother, Druella, had observed this behaviour with a droll, dry disinterest, lip curled only slightly to indicate her distaste for the music of those she so deplored.

‘Would you like to try something like that again this year, Cissy?’ whispered Dromeda, excitedly, coaxing her youngest sister into some much-needed (she felt) tomfoolery.

Just as Narcissa opened her mouth to respond, the door swung open once again and Bella strode towards them. Narcissa dropped her book and clamped her mouth shut, shifting away from Dromeda as though she were red hot. Dromeda sighed as Bella glared openly at her and turned away.

‘Cissy do come along, Mother wants us to come and say hello to Grandma Rosier.’ She paused then, with great effort added: ...Dromeda too, I suppose. But you mustn’t start on about that rotten friend of yours.’

Dromeda bristled. She knew precisely who Bella was referring to, her closest school friend Jim Macmillan, who despite his pureblood name, had been born to a Muggle mother. The disgrace of the Macmillans had been the talk of the drawing room but Dromeda didn’t care. She liked Jim: coming from a house of Black, both literally, and she felt very strongly figuratively, she found his light-hearted approach to life refreshing, his generosity with Chocolate Frogs endearing and his ability to impersonate the teachers most amusing. They had been inseparable since their first term and it infuriated Dromeda to think of her parents’ expressions when his name was mentioned. Her defiance had not gone unnoticed and the tension that had arisen seemed to merely ripple on the surface of a much greater conflict brewing both within the household and beyond.

Lips thin, jaw clenched, she declined to respond to Bella’s barbed comment and followed her sisters out of the room, Narcissa’s smile long forgotten as she followed in Bella’s shadow, head bowed. 

It was going to be a long, dark Christmas. She could feel it.


End file.
